


I'd Wanna Be Held By You, Felled By You

by TypingMonkey (purty64)



Category: The Penumbra Podcast, The Second Citadel (The Penumbra Podcast)
Genre: Ace Sir Angelo, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arospec Sir Angelo, Arospec character, Asexual Character, Hurt/Comfort, I think I should also mark this as, I'm sorry it wasn't supposed to be like this, M/M, me an aro trying to write romance: can I phone a friend, with an emphasis on the hurt rather than the comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25170466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purty64/pseuds/TypingMonkey
Summary: Alt title: it's hard to find a boyfriend who can kick your ass when you're the best knight in the citadel (luckily he lives nearby)Alé is in love with Angelo but won't tell him, and Angelo is in love with Alé but doesn't realize it. Damien, in a surprising display of restraint, takes it all in stride.
Relationships: Sir Angelo & Sir Damien (Penumbra Podcast), Sir Angelo/Alé of Milltown
Comments: 15
Kudos: 80





	I'd Wanna Be Held By You, Felled By You

**Author's Note:**

> my friends helped with this so much I almost feel like they should be marked as co creators despite not typing a single word of it. a BIG thank you to Han, Ria, Elle, Marbles, Key, I owe you both my life and this fic. like actually holy shit this fic would Literally not exist without them you guys I love them so much.  
> anyway.  
> fic time.

"Do you have... _feelings_ , for Sir Angelo?" Damien asked.

"Sure." Alé toweled off his head. "He's attractive. He's kind. Saints, he's _sincere_. What's not to like?"

"But-" Alé looked up at Damien. "-why haven't you said anything?"

He laughed. "Have you seen him? He's the most straight laced guy I've ever met. He'd _never_ go for another man, let alone _me."_ he said, his tone taking on a bitter edge.

Damien stared at him.

He thought back to his conversation with Angelo, to how he'd stuttered and been poetic and _blushed,_ remembered how hauntingly familiar he'd sounded _("only a rivalry," he'd said, and Damien had only just suppressed his laughter)_ , how... happy, he was.

He stood, clasping a hand on Alé's shoulder, startling him. "I think it would be wise to talk it over with him, despite what doubts you may hold." Alé scoffed, shrugging off Damien's hand and turning away. Damien let him go, and with a sigh, left the barracks.

He didn't get to see Alé shrink in on himself, wrapping his arm around himself and pretending it was leftover water from his hair dripping onto the floor.

* * *

The air in Angelo’s lungs left all at once as his back met the dirt, his sword clattering out of his grip somewhere to his right. He went to turn over, to snatch it back up and continue the spar, but as he sucked in a breath, sunlight glanced off the sword at his throat. He looked up, his eyes meeting Alé’s, running over his smirk and crinkled eyes.

“I win” he pants out between carefully controled breaths, and Angelo’s breath catches. _Oh_ , he thinks to himself.

_Oh._

* * *

Angelo’s _“Sir Damien!”_ and loud slamming of the door caused the man in question to startle, spilling his ink pot all over the parchment he’d been composing his latest poem on. Cursing as he yanked the paper out from under the rapidly emptying pot and shaking it out, trying desperately to save the poem.

 _It wasn’t a very good draft anyway,_ he thought as he was forced to throw it aside. “Yes?”

“I must speak with you, as soon as possible!”

“Well,” he glanced over at the wastepaper bin, “I’m free now. What is it?”

Suddenly Angelo started stuttering, twisting his fingers together and looking at the floor. _Ah,_ thought Damien.

“Is this about Alé?” he asked, interrupting Angelo’s babbling.

“I- well- yes.” Damien waits. “How did-” he takes a breath. “What was it like?”

“What was _what,_ like?” Damien asks gently. He’s sure he already knows, but- well. He wants to be _sure._

Angelo swallows, and whispers “Falling in love.”

* * *

When Angelo arrives for practice the next day, Alé is immeditely on alert, because Angelo is not hup-hup-hupping his way over. He isn’t talking. He isn’t even _smiling_. He seems… nervous. Sir Angelo is _never_ nervous.

(His first, horrible thought is that Damien told him, but he quickly dismisses that idea. He wouldn’t be so cruel.)

“Hey schoolboy! Ready to lose again?” he says as Angelo approaches, teeth flashing in something approximating a grin.

He stops a few feet away, just out of reach, fidgiting with the hem of his tunic and not meeting Alé’s eyes. “… Angelo?”

“I actually… I must tell you something, before we begin.”

Alé’s heart drops. _He knows,_ he thinks, _he knows and he’s come to tell me he’s not interested, that he’s not comfortable with me anymore, that we won’t be sparring and he never wants to speak to me again._ “Sure,” is what actually gets pushed out of his lungs. “What’s up?”

Angelo takes a breath, and with the way Alé’s thoughts spin it seems to take a thousand years, long enough for the rise and fall of the Third Citadel, long enough for everything to fall off the edge of the world and pile back up again at the bottom to start anew. Finally, _~~(finally,)~~_ he says “I think that I am in love with you.”

It takes a moment ~~(minute)~~ for Alé to process, having expected rejection or anger or _something_ else, and when his head jerks up to look at Angelo he’s shrunken in on himself, expecting-

 _Anger,_ he thinks in shock. _He expects me to be angry with him._

“Angelo-”

“It is fine if you do not feel the same way,” he blurts out. “I would not expect that from you, and I hope that this does not change things between us. I value your friendship and company, and wouldn’t want-” he chokes, and as he does Alé steps forward and grabs his arm.

 _"Angelo._ Look at me." A heartbeat, and then their eyes meet. “I love you too. And, and not-” he ducks his head, smiling “-in a, friend way. I want- I love you.”

He only just caught the _oh_ , before he more heard than saw and more felt than heard Angelo press his forehead against his own. Then, in an almost uncharacteristically hushed voice, Angelo speaks.

"I can’t-"a beat. “I spoke with Sir Damien.” Alé hums. “I am not built like other knights, other _people_. I do not- _want,_ as you might. I won’t-” his voice catches, and Alé can _hear_ the tears in his voice. “I won’t be able to- fulfill your needs, in- all the ways a lover should.”

“Should doesn’t matter,” Alé murmurs, speaking in kind. “I _should_ at stay home. I _should_ cook and weave and sew. But I don’t, and I’m not. I’m myself. Should doesn’t come into it.”

Angelo’s shoulders begin to shake, and Alé wraps his arm around them, keeping their foreheads pressed together and lowering them to the ground.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to push you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with, alright? I wouldn’t do that to you.” Angelo nods, shoulders still shaking, and curls up against Alé’s side. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Angelo: hey Damien what's RomanceTM feel like  
> me: YEA DAMIEN HELP A GUY OUT
> 
> me: *quietly skipping over the bit where Damien explains A Romance* pay no attention to the man behind the green curtain
> 
> edit: holy shit to everyone who's left comments on this, I'm not good at the whole "human interaction" thing but I _will_ die for you.   
> *hoards your comments like a dragon* this is my lifeblood now. I subsist on these.


End file.
